


Oh Come, Let us Adore Him

by Caeseria



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, All I want for Christmas is you, Barebacking, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Canadian Shack, Christmas, Creampie, Doritos - Freeform, Fireside Sex, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Flustered Keith (Voltron), Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Huddling For Warmth, Idiots in Love, If you are not reading this on AO3 then my work has been stolen, Klancemas 2019, Lazy Sex, M/M, Midwinter solstice, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Rimming, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Snow, Snowed In, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, klance, season 8 never happened, wow these tags look ridiculous together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21974782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caeseria/pseuds/Caeseria
Summary: On the way to a Midwinter gathering, Lance and Keith get stranded in the Canadian Rockies during a snowstorm and are forced to seek shelter in a mountain shack.[Aka the one where Keith discovers all problems (including potential hypothermia) can be resolved by eating Lance's ass out like it's an ice cream cone.]
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 654





	Oh Come, Let us Adore Him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [svana_vrika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/svana_vrika/gifts).



> For my best friend, Svana, who continues to amuse me, to amaze me, to push me, to listen to me when I'm ranting, to encourage me to do bad things and write even sexier things. She is the best person ever. Babe, I love you so much. Don't ever change. <3
> 
> It's taken me a year to get around to writing this: we had a dual writing challenge – to write a Canadian Shack fic. This is an old fandom concept that doesn't nearly get enough love anymore! Anyway, part of the challenge was to get a bag of Doritos in there, because you can't have Canadian shack fic without a bag of Doritos. (or Dorito dust in your hair). 
> 
> This was supposed to be short and sweet, and instead is now long and fluffy. Nothing says love more than 10k of porn. <3
> 
> *If you are not reading this on A03, then my work has been stolen and is being distributed without my permission.*

_"-viroment Canada winter storm warning, with estimates of between 25-40 cms of snow in some higher elevations. Commuters are advised to keep travel to a minimum, and portions of the Trans Canada Highway are closed until the storm warning is lifted. This is a major storm folks, so if you've got to be out in the snow, remember winter tires are mandatory if you are driving through the mountains. The storm's a big one, so expect this one to hang tight until probably late tomorrow. Over to you, Steve, with the hockey sco-"_

"Quiznak." Lance leans forward to turn off the radio. He turns to look over at Keith, who still has his eyes fixed on – what he presumes – is the road ahead; it's a bit hard to tell at this point. "Whose idea was this again?" Lance says with a sigh.

Keith doesn't dare take his eyes off the road for long; visibility is fading with the twilight. He can see the front bumper of the SUV, and the headlights cut two beams of light over the snow covered road. The snow falls rapidly in a thick, heavy curtain – the kind of snow that accumulates devastatingly fast. Keith can't afford a lapse in concentration at this point; he's concentrating so hard he thinks he's gonna have a hard time peeling his hands off the steering wheel when they finally arrive at this damn cabin Shiro's fiancé Adam has rented.

Speaking of… "This is Adam's fault," Keith declares. 

"Riiiiight." Lance nods sagely – Keith catches the movement out of the corner of his eye, also doesn't miss the smirk nestled at the corner of Lance's lips. "It's all his fault we're staying in a nice cabin with a small group of friends, celebrating Midwinter and just having a cool, relaxing time."

"Don't forget the booze," Keith adds weakly, trying not to focus on how damn cute Lance looks in that matching hat and his knitted mittens. Ugh, Keith is weak for Lance on the best of days, but in the middle of a deadly ~~romantic~~ snowstorm, cheeks pinked and smiling warmly at Keith from the passenger seat? _Shot through the heart._

"You know, I'm trying to stay positive here. How much further is this damn place?" Lance asks. "Feels like we've been driving forever since we turned off the highway."

Keith quickly glances at the HUD. "Um, check the GPS," he suggests. "Lance – did you switch off the display?"

"Nope." Lance pops the 'p' at the end. He pulls off a mitten and fiddles with the HUD, humming tunelessly to himself. It's one of the many things Keith lov- erm, admires, about Lance. Lance presses a couple of buttons but the screen remains unresponsive, so Lance swipes his fingers over the display. Still nothing. He makes another humming noise, this one a little more… loaded in content. "Keith, we might have a _bit_ of a problem."

"Define _'a bit'_." Keith takes a hairpin turn at a glacial pace, barely crawling forward. Despite the winter tires that are mandatory on all vehicles, the snow is wet and thick enough to be causing traction problems now that it's getting deep. The SUV is struggling to make it through the snow. A deep sense of foreboding falls over Keith and he huffs out a sigh. 

"Okay, so." Lance waves a hand in the general vicinity of the snow. "This is sort of like that time we got stuck on the edge of that black hole that was pulling in that red dwarf planet? And like, every time we sent out a distress call to the castleship, the horizon kept eating the signal before it could bounce out to normal time-space? And we had to wait until Coran figured out we hadn't checked in and came looking for us instead, and we had to hope the event horizon wasn't gonna suck us in first and turn us into human Mobius strips?" 

Lance manages to make everything sound like a question. Keith _knows_ what that means. When Lance starts answering things with a question mark they are usually in deep shit. Deep, deep, shit. "Lance," Keith bites out, "Just tell me what the fuck is going on."

It's right at that moment that there's a deep whirring noise from the middle of the dash, and it steadily grows louder. Keith slows the SUV even further, while Lance leans back a little, side-eyeing the dash. The whir turns into a clunking noise and eventually there is a loud bang and something clearly ricochets around inside, followed by the smell of burning rubber and melting things. 

On a positive note, the whirring has stopped.

"Okay so it appears we lost the GPS signal, which is why that is off, and it also appears that – " Lance leans forward, shucks off his other mitten, and holds his hand out, "the loud bang is from the heating fan, which is no longer working. So yay, no heat."

Keith grinds his teeth. " _Why_ didn't we bring a Lion? _Why_ are we driving in this bullshit weather when we have giant sentient cat battleships?" He allows his tone to sharpen, and his volume to escalate a _little_.

"There's no need to get shouty, mullet," Lance huffs. "You wanted a scenic drive. I would have been perfectly happy to bring Red along and just park him outside the cabin. You're the person who wanted to get back to nature or whatever."

Keith pulls in a deep breath and goes back to concentrating on what he believes is still the road. Now he knows the heat isn't working it's like his body is trying to gauge if it actually feels colder inside. "Do they plough these side roads?" he asks. "Cause if not, nobody else is getting in or out either."

"Hmm." There goes Lance with his adorable question-but-not-an-answer hum. Like he's not sure about the answer, but he's also not sure what Keith is thinking; does Keith actually want an answer or is it rhetorical? Eventually, Lance settles on, "I think Pidge and Hunk came in yesterday and Adam and Shiro have been up here since we arrived in-system last week."

"Okay." Keith rolls his hands on the steering wheel, unclenching his fingers one by one and relaxing them, working out the ache. He can feel the SUV sliding out at the back end a little. "Alright, Lance. We passed a bridge a ways back, right? Just after we turned off the Trans Canada?"

"Um, yep," Lance agrees.

"I remember the GPS had us doing a bunch of switchbacks for a few miles, keeping pace with the river next to us, right?"

Lance nods. "The river was on the right before the snow got really heavy," he adds, "so we must be going in the right direction."

"How far do you think we need to go? Five miles, maybe more?"

Lance lets out a sigh, and Keith notices his breath fog in the air. "I have no idea Keith," Lance says. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention; I was relying on the tech to guide us in. That was a stupid mistake and entirely my fault as navigator."

"It's on me," Keith says. "I should have bought an actual map and thought this through better."

"Keith, I don't wanna die out here in the wilds of untamed Canada," Lance wails dramatically, throwing himself back into his seat with an arm over his eyes. "I don't want them to find us in spring, frozen husks that starved to death in a shitty rented SUV. One good looking corpse in a Canada Goose jacket and the other in a Canadian tuxedo and a discount parka. I'll never live it down!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Keith barks out with a laugh. His breath fogs the air; a sobering reminder that they have no heat. He wriggles in his seat, trying to get a better look through the windscreen, which has started to freeze over now that there is no heat to keep things thawed. The snow still falls in a heavy curtain, and the thin layer of frost forming on the inside of the windshield isn't helping visibility. 

It's at this point that the SUV finally goes into fuck-it mode; the back end slides out on the next turn Keith makes, and the whole vehicle slides slowly in a sideways direction down the shallow sloping hill. Keith Kogane, Black Paladin of Voltron, member of the Blade of Marmora, GQ's Universal Sexiest Person Alive two years in a row, curses like a sailor and tries to wrestle the quiznaking SUV back onto the road. 

The SUV continues sliding, more under its own momentum than anything else. Lance, for his part, sits there and just waits for Keith to wrestle nature (and the SUV) back under his control. Eventually, gravity – and the snowbank – win out, and the SUV comes to a halt by sliding gently into a large pile of snow just at the bottom of the hill. 

Keith sighs and pries his hands off the wheel, wiggling his fingers to get some sensation back. "Why couldn't we have Christmas or Midwinter or whatever at the shack?!" Keith mutters.

"Because they built a subdivision where your shack was, sweetie," Lance points out, patting Keith on the knee, offering the sort of careless comfort that only comes with years of close friendship and flirting (and a smidge of leftover rivalry). "What's the plan, Fearless Leader? Do you want to try to walk to the cabin, or are we going to wait the storm out and leave pretty corpses for the authorities to find?"

Keith shakes his head, smirking. "You are vicious, you know that right?"

"You love it." Lance is zipping up his jacket and adjusting his hat. He pulls out his orange comm. "Hmm."

Keith puts the SUV in park and undoes his seatbelt, turning to Lance. "I don't like the sound of that 'hmm'."

Lance presses at this screen a few times, blue eyes flicking up to meet Keith's and then down again to his comm. "Right, so, the comm isn't working either so we can't call the gang for a quick rescue."

"The comm is not working?!" Keith holds up a hand, finger pointing upward toward the sky. "Just to be clear, this is the same comm that worked fine during the whole event-horizon-Mobius-strip thing."

"Yes."

"The _same comm_ that works apparently everywhere in the _entire universe_ except twenty square miles of the Canadian Rockies?"

"I think you are being a little dramatic, but yes," Lance says. He tucks his comm back in his pocket and pulls on his mittens. "So, what's it gonna be? Cause I have another suggestion, which depending on how you feel right now you'll either love or hate."

"Okay, I'm listening. It can't be worse than the time Allura made us do that team bonding thing for the weekend."

"You mean camping out on Pergamon which turned out to actually be a secret hidden Galra base?" Lance says with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, I remember that. I have the scar on my thigh still to prove it."

"I forgot about that scar," Keith breaths out, and then replays what he just said in his head. Damn, he sounds far too invested, he needs to dial that back, stat. "I mean, erm, yeah, that sucked. A lot. For you. I mean, it hurt, obviously. For you." _Do not blush_ , he thinks. _Do not, for the love of your sanity, think about Lance mostly naked with a scar marring that perfect skin on his thigh. No_. 

See, this is the problem. He can deal with Lance and act somewhat normal around him, as long as his attention is focused elsewhere. Put him in a room alone with Lance, or a small space – kinda like this SUV – and Keith's cool persona goes to shit. Because the truth of the matter is, as they mature from gangly, overeager teenagers and into more mature adults, the more Keith falls for the person Lance is, and the person he's becoming. Keith was flustered by teenage idiot Lance, and he's even more flustered by adult Lance, with his knowing looks, that sparkle in his blue eyes, the casual flirting he aims specifically, and only, at Keith. 

Keith realizes he's been staring at Lance for a few minutes. "Sorry, did you say something?" he says.

Lance laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Dude, you've been staring into space for a while. I thought you were making a decision."

 _Get back on track, Kogane. Deep breaths_. "Do we know for sure where Adam's cabin is?" Keith asks.

"Nope. Other than it being further down the road. Problems with that is that the snow is showing no signs of letting up, and it's only going to get deeper, and I'm not sure how close we are."

"Other option?"

"We stay in the car. Maybe our combined body heat will keep us warm. Maybe we freeze. The temperature earlier was a balmy -14C. Night is falling as we speak, and while it's not windy, the temperature is going to drop further."

Keith grunts and wraps his arms around his parka. It is getting colder the longer they sit here. "So… we're fucked basically."

"Yeah, and not in the fun way," Lance throws in. 

The smirk doesn't quite make it to his eyes this time, and that's when Keith knows they are in trouble. Not the sort of 'hey, we're gonna miss a meal,' sort of trouble, but more of that time the castleship got caught in the space maelstrom at the edge of the Confluence of Mimry in Sector 53. The castleship had almost had a nacelle torn off, and they'd lost the nosecone for sure and had to get a replacement through Unilu aftermarket parts. That hadn't been fun.

"I have another suggestion," Lance says hesitantly.

Keith shifts in his seat until he can face Lance properly, pulling his leg up onto the seat. "Okay."

Lance meets Keith's eyes for a few quick moments, huffing out a breath. "I saw a cabin back in the trees maybe a half mile back. We could aim to make it there for shelter."

"I didn't see anything when we were driving?"

That makes Lance snicker. "Keith, you were nose to nose with the freezing windshield, doing manly battle against the elements. You could barely see the front of the car, let alone the road. While you were going cross eyed trying not to get hypnotised by the falling snow, I was doing my thing. Sharpshooter, remember?" 

Keith tries to not find it adorable when Lance taps next to his eye with his overly large knitted mitten. He looks ridiculous in an endearing way. "Did you see any lights on at the cabin?"

"No. It was dark. Doesn't mean it's unoccupied," Lance adds, "just that the owners aren't home."

"And likely won't be unless they have a military all-terrain vehicle," Keith adds. "We're checking one of those out of the Garrison fleet next time we do this, by the way. This is the one and only time I'm ever getting snowed the fuck in."

"You wanna go for it?" Lance asks with a wink.

Keith gives it a solid two seconds of thought. "What the hell. I'd rather be moving than potentially freezing to death in a car overnight. Plus I can't remember if you should stay in the vehicle or not if you get snowed in, so fuck it, let's find this cabin."

* * *

They've been walking for a good hour and the sun is setting, the temperature dropping lower. They haven't gotten far, and Keith is concerned they made a bad decision leaving the vehicle. The snow is up to their knees on the road; much deeper in the trees that surround them. They are having to wade their way back up the switchback, and it takes a toll on their bodies. Both of them are extremely fit – they have to be to be Paladins – but even so, the cold wet of the snow seeps into their jeans and chills their legs. It makes the going tough having to expend so much energy just to move forward. 

"This is way worse than Calset Nine," Lance mutters. He has his arms wrapped around him to conserve heat, but Keith can see his teeth chattering.

"That wasn't snow, that was frozen mercury," Keith points out.

"Yeah, and mercury only freezes at -40C remember?" Lance reaches out and tugs Keith to the side. "Down here I think."

Keith raises an eyebrow. The snow is still falling, the large, wet flakes falling into his hair and melting on his skin. The forest is dark, and the snow blankets any sounds, creating a magical (but eerie) atmosphere. It's almost awe-inspiring, if they weren't in very real danger of freezing. The direction Lance points them looks simply like a gap in the trees, barely a driveway. "Are you sure?" Keith feels like an asshole for asking, but to leave the road might be an even bigger mistake than leaving the car.

"Mostly," Lance hesitates. He turns to Keith, lips pressed together, expression serious. "Keith, maybe we should go back to the SUV? If we can't find this place…"

Keith reaches out and tucks his hand into the crook of Lance's arm. "C'mon, it can't be far. We're Paladins of Voltron. We kicked Zarkon's ass, and Lotor's. I refuse to let Canada be my Rubicon."

Lance's eyebrow kicks up and he smirks. "I don't think you can use two geographical locations to draw a metaphorical line in the sand, but whatever, let's find this cabin."

They wander, arm in arm for another little while, the snow steadily getting deeper the farther into the trees they get. The driveway has almost disappeared, and Keith is seriously wondering if they are going to make it when Lance makes a little noise and tugs on Keith's hand. "There! Through the trees! See it?" He bounces on the ball of his feet a little, and that's when he suddenly disappears from view, grip torn from Keith's arm as he disappears down the embankment they'd both missed. His surprised scream is almost comical.

"Lance!" Keith hollers, shuffling to the edge of the road and staring over the edge.

"I'm okay." Lance's voice is faint, but he's there, lying almost buried in snow up to his neck, mittened hand sticking out and waving as he tries to pull himself out of the mini-avalanche he created on the way down the slope. "Stupid edge of driveway," he mutters. "Stupid snowstorm. Stupid outback."

Keith isn't going to point out this is _not_ the outback. "I'm coming down to get you."

"NO!" Lance flails in the snow and manages to crane his head back to look at Keith. "Don't you dare. If you get stuck down here we'll never get out." He pulls himself from the snowbank and, once on top of it, starts to crawl up the slope on his hands and knees, sticking to the hollows in the snow he made on the way down. 

Keith (being Keith), slides partway down the slope anyway so he can hold his arm out for Lance to grab, and then hauls the both of them back up to the driveway. He brushes Lance down – Lance, whose teeth are now chattering badly, his skin flushed where the snow has worked its way underneath his clothes. He's missing a mitten, and his hat is soaked, along with the rest of his clothes. 

"We need to get you inside, stat, before you get frostbite."

"A-agreed," Lance stutters, blinking the snow out of his lashes. "P-probably not g-good to be wet at these temperatures."

Keith reaches up and brushes away the snow at Lance's brow, noticing how Lance stills in surprise. Keith takes Lance's bare hand and rubs it between his fingers. "Need to keep you warm," he explains. "Do you wanna stick your hands under my jacket?"

"Oh my god," Lance splutters, looking away for a quick moment as his face heats a beautiful pink. "You want me to do what now?!"

"Put your hands under my jacket. Against my skin." He pauses. "To stay warm?"

"I – oh my god," Lance continues, and now he's blushing up a storm.

Okay, so in retrospect, Keith thinks, his solution does sound a bit weird. Maybe he should explain. "I, um, well – " _Okay, so great start, Kogane. Both of you are gonna self-combust in the middle of the Canadian version of Snowmaggedon. Awesome._ "I – mean, I didn't mean – "

"Oh, fuck this," Lance mutters, snatching his hand from between Keith's. He moves his hand to the back of Keith's neck and leans in, pressing his oh-so-warm lips against Keith's for a brief moment before pulling back just enough to meet Keith's gaze. "I've been wanting to do that for ages. If I'm gonna die I'm gonna get a kiss first."

"Okay," Keith squeaks out. _Lance just kissed him._ He thinks so, anyway. He's not sure; they might be dying in the bottom of that ditch and he's hallucinating right now. "Can I – "

"Yep, please, yes." Lance grins and leans in a little, just so Keith gets the point. Keith does; tipping forward just enough to press his lips back against Lance's. Lance tilts his head so they can press closer, and then he feels Lance's hand pressing against the back of his neck, a comforting weight, just as he shifts and parts his lips. The kiss deepens as Lance's tongue sweeps forward, and Keith lets out a quiet keening sound of pleasure. He's been waiting _years_ to make a move, always chickening out at the last minute, and here Lance is, taking control. It's kinda hot, to be honest.

Caught up in the kiss, it takes Keith a good few moments to realize Lance is still shaking, and it's getting worse. Keith pulls back and frowns. "As much as I am totally enjoying kissing you right now, I think we need to find that shelter, stat."

Lance nods. "Good – g-good idea," he manages. "Freezing is b-bad."

Keith takes Lance by his hand and pulls him close, tugging until he's under his arm, as close as they can get. "Okay, so we are gonna power through this as fast as we can," Keith says, aiming for a pep-talk. "We can't afford to be out here any longer after you took that dive off the road."

They wade through the snow, Keith half dragging Lance towards the dark outline of the cabin he can see through the trees. As they get nearer, it's clear it's less of a cabin, and more of a shack. Keith snorts; of course it's a fucking shack, what was he expecting? A nice cozy four season cabin with heated floors and a bathtub?

But they are here, at last. Now, all they have to do is hope they can get the door open and get inside before they both freeze. 

* * *

The front door of the shack is blocked by snow – not just from this snowfall, but the others that have preceded it. Keith gives Lance a quick squeeze, and checks around the back for an entrance, otherwise he's going to have to force this door, which is not ideal if he wants to shut it later against the weather. Fortunately, there's a lean-to against the back, and it's almost full of cut logs, ready for a fire. Keith thanks the gods silently for this piece of good news. The back door has some give to it, and when he presses on the latch, it springs open, so there's no need to force the door. Keith turns around to yell for Lance, only to find him standing silently behind him. Keith lets out a shriek of surprise. "Holy fuck, Lance!"

Despite being half frozen, Lance is laughing, bent over at the waist. "O-oh my god," he wheezes around chattering teeth. "Your f-face. Th-that was p-priceless!"

"You could have been anyone," Keith splutters.

Lance continues to wheeze, finally standing back up and wiping at his eye with his unmittened hand. "W-what were you expecting i-in this weather? An angry yeti?"

"Don't mock my theories while you are freezing to death, Lance," Keith deadpans. "Anything is possible out here, which is why we need to be _in there_." He grabs Lance by the hand and drags him, docile but still laughing, through the door.

They both pause on the threshold for a moment, staring around while the grey twilight still gives them light to see by. The light switch does nothing when Keith flicks it, but he wasn't expecting miracles here if he's being honest with himself. 

"Doesn't look like this place has been used for a few years," he says finally. 

"Ri-right," Lance shivers out.

That pulls Keith back into focus. Décor and exposition can wait – they need to get Lance warm. Keith casts about the small shack, and fixes on the large stone fireplace that takes up the majority of the side wall. "C'mon," Keith says, taking Lance by the arm and pulling him toward the fireplace. "I'm gonna get a fire going."

He casts about, finding a box of kindling near the side, and kneels down. The flagstone bed is clear, meaning the last person here cleaned out the remains of the last fire. He hopes that also means that since there's no debris, there's also not a blockage further up the chimney. They don't have a way to check, other than to light a fire. There's a few logs by the side, stacked and ready to go, and some matches. Keith gets a flame going, and then the pyramid of sticks start to catch.

"You're good at-at that," Lance says. He's shivering less, Keith notices, which may not be a good sign. "Come on, over here," Keith says, gesturing Lance closer. "It's not gonna be warm yet, but at least it's something until I get it going. Can you keep an eye on this while I look for blankets and stuff?"

"S-sure." Lance nods rapidly a couple of times. His cheeks are flushed, eyes glassy, and Keith doesn't like the look of that. He's used to Lance being animated and poking fun at Keith, not silent and shaky like this.

"Lance?" Keith tugs him down to the floorboards, takes off his remaining mitten and flings it to the side near the front door. "We're gonna get you warm in a tic, okay?"

"Okay." 

Keith waits a few moments, and then when he figures the blaze has taken well enough with the kindling, he pulls a log toward it, running his fingers over it to check for dampness. Luck holds; it seems to be dry. Despite the age of the cabin it seems to be weathertight. He pulls the log and rests it over the edge of the kindling, making sure the new fire has enough oxygen to continue burning the kindling while hopefully catching the log. Then he turns back to Lance, who is sitting there, watching the fire, blinking every now and again. "Lance, you with me? Can you feel the heat a little, yeah?" He reaches up, pulls off Lance's wet hat, and brushes his hair back. "Gimme five to find blankets, okay? Don't move."

Lance nods, and Keith pushes past the sofa and into the other side of the shack. There's no dividing walls; the place is utilitarian and small, with a tiny kitchen near the back door. The fridge looks mid-last century at best, and is obviously not working due to the lack of electricity. There's a kitchen counter, and beyond that is a bed. The mattress is bare and the bed is unmade, but there is a blanket box at the foot of the bed and this is where Keith goes; pulling up the lid and pulling out pillows, blankets and comforters. The box is cedar lined and has done a fantastic job of keeping the linens fresh and insect free, which is a godsend. Clearly the fire has only ever been the source of heat, because there's enough blankets for a small army. 

Keith returns to the fire, ruffling Lance's hair. He drops his mound of blankets and pillows, and adds another log to the fire now he can see that there is no smoke back-filling the room, which means the chimney is clear of obstructions. Lance watches Keith as he lays two blankets down on the floorboards in front of the fire. There's an old rug there, but Keith doesn't really want to lay directly on it – he'd rather not think about what may or may not be ground into it dirt-wise. Better to just cover it up. Once he has a springy base spread out, he starts sorting out the other quilts and blankets. Then he stands up.

"Ready?" he asks Lance.

Lance blinks a few times and focuses. "Ready for what?"

Ah. Keith had thought this part was obvious, but maybe not. "You're going to have to strip down, Lance. You can't stay in those wet clothes."

Lance gapes at Keith and then blushes. "Right," he says, standing up. "Can you er…" he makes a twirling gesture with his finger.

Keith spins on the spot, until he's facing the bed. "I have seen you naked before, you know," he points out. "And now we've kissed."

Lance laughs. Keith can hear something wet hit the flagstones in front of the fireplace and tries his best not to imagine Lance's body exposed to the flickering firelight, dancing over his sunkissed skin. "Brrr," Lance mutters to himself, and then something heavier hits the floor, sopping wet. That would be Lance's jeans. "You've seen me half-naked and mostly dead," Lance says after a minute. He's moved now – probably grabbed a quilt to cover himself with.

"I've seen you naked in the shower," Keith points out, and then pauses. Oh my god, did he just say that out loud? Abort, Kogane, abort!

"Did you just – " Lance sputters, "nope, never mind. I'm done here, by the way."

When Keith turns around, Lance is wrapped up like a burrito in a quilt and sitting on the blankets, facing the fire. All Keith can see is his nose, his eyes, and his messy chestnut hair, which is curling a little as it dries. Keith grabs Lance's clothes and wrings them out over the ancient sink, returning to lay them out directly in front of the fire. "Underwear," Keith says, making grabby hands. He raises an eyebrow. "Lance, take them off. They are probably wet and you do not want that against your skin."

Lance raises his head enough so Keith can see him stick out his tongue, and then starts shimmying around in his blanket burrito, finally lifting a corner to toss out his underwear. Keith pulls the rest of the blankets closer to their makeshift blanket fort and shucks off his jacket, tossing it onto the ancient sofa. "How are you feeling?" he says, dropping to his knees next to Lance. He brushes his fingers over Lance's cheek, the skin cool to the touch.

"I'm cold, obviously," Lance adds, but there's no fire to the comment, not like Lance would throw out normally. 

"Okay, I'm gonna get you warm," Keith says. "The fire's a good start but we need to get your core temperature up." He toes off his shoes and strips off his shirt and jeans, until he's down to socks and underwear. "Let me in."

Lance stares at him for a moment, gaze sliding down Keith's body, mouth parted as he gets his fill. Keith lets him look, smirking a little. "C'mon Lance, you've seen me naked before, it's nothing," he says with a grin. Lance flashes him a smirk, acknowledging Keith's verbal misstep earlier. 

"I've also seen you in the shower," Lance adds with a wink, holding up the edge of the blanket.

Keith takes the invitation, slipping under the blanket, glad to find it's starting to warm. He slips behind Lance, pulling another blanket over to the front, and wiggles around until Lance is sitting between his legs. "This okay?" Keith asks. Lance nods, and Keith moves closer until he's pressed against Lance's back, and able to slip a hand around Lance's waist. Lance lifts his arm so Keith can hug him close, and leans back a little. He's still shivering, Keith notes. Minute, tiny shivers that wrack his lean frame. His skin is startlingly chilled, and Keith starts to rub his hands up and down Lance's arms, down his sides, trying to generate heat through friction. He has no idea if this is actually a thing that is gonna work, but anything is worth a try. "Do you have pins and needles?" he asks Lance. "Do your toes and fingers ache?"

Lance sighs. "A bit tingly in my fingers and toes," he says, "but otherwise, no, I don't think I'm getting frostbite." He pauses. "It hurts though as I start to warm up. My fingers ache a little." He flexes them, staring down at his hands.

Keith takes both of Lance's hands and tucks them across his chest, pushing his hands into his own underarms. "It's warmer here, or between your legs," Keith says. "Keep them there for a while, until the tingling starts to fade, okay?"

Lance nods, shifting a little so he can see Keith. He leans back, letting Keith take his weight as he relaxes. The trembles start to die off, becoming less as the minutes pass and Lance starts to warm up properly. "Are your hands cold?" Lance asks eventually.

"Hmm? No, I was wearing gloves," Keith replies. "Why?"

Lance looks up at Keith, eyes heavy lidded as he looks down at Keith's lips and then back up again. There's a flash of mischief in those eyes suddenly. "That's a shame," Lance says softly. "I got somewhere you could warm them up, samurai."

Keith's mouth drops open in surprise. "Did you just – "

Lance pushes up, catches Keith's mouth in a kiss, slips him a little tongue, just enough to get Keith totally on board. Keith cards his hand through Lance's hair, and then pulls him in closer. Lance's hand comes to rest on Keith's bare chest, sliding down over his pec and brushing a nipple. Keith makes a noise into the kiss, and he can feel Lance's smirk against his lips. The kiss remains lazy and exploratory; they have all the time in the world, stuck here with no distractions, and it shows. Keith explores Lance's skin, brushing down his arms, across his back, barely able to feel the scar there that he knows mars the smooth skin. They both have scars, some raised, some not, but for some reason, the one on Lance's back is the most noteworthy for Keith. It defines a moment when they ceased to be kids on an adventure and became men – men that could die.

"Hey," whispers Lance, "you still with me?"

"Sorry," Keith says hoarsely. "This still bothers me." He runs his fingertips over Lance's back and Lance shivers, lets out a delicious sigh against Keith's shoulder.

"Don't," Lance says, taking Keith's hand in his and kissing across his knuckles. "We got our bonding moment out of it after all." 

"Okay, you gotta stop bringing that up," Keith says with a laugh. "I'm still cradling you in my arms, even now."

"I'll give you this one, sweetie." Lance bites his lip and stares up at Keith. Very slowly, he puts pressure on Keith's shoulder, right where his hand rests, pushing Keith backward. Keith goes with the flow, landing on his back on the blankets, and watches Lance as he shifts in between Keith's legs, turning enough so he's on his hands and knees over him. 

"Log," Keith says. "Since you are, er, up?" 

"Huh?" Lance pauses.

Keith smirks back, raising an eyebrow and points toward the fireplace. "Log. The fire needs feeding so we don't freeze."

"Keith – " Lance begins. He pokes Keith in the chest with a pointy finger. "Yanno, I was about to give you an absolutely stellar blowjob, and now, maybe not." He reaches out and yanks a log from the pile, crawling over Keith so he can place it on the fire. 

Keith waits until Lance is almost out of the blanket pile and then strokes his hand down Lance's spine, watching as he makes a noise of pleasure and bows his spine like a cat being stroked, popping his ass up when Keith caresses over the generous swell of his ass. Keith cannot resist Lance's behind at the best of times, and now it's almost directly in front of his face. Keith knows what he wants, _hell yeah_. He pulls Lance backward and Lance goes willingly onto his stomach, pillowing his head on his forearms, content to lay there and bask in the heat from the fireplace. 

"Are you going to pamper me in return for keeping the fire going?" Lance asks suggestively.

Keith leans forward to place another soft, slow kiss to Lance's lips. "I am going to pamper you, yes," Keith whispers. "The snow is falling, it's Midwinter Night, neither of us managed to die, and I finally get to kiss you and touch you. This is a big thing, Lance."

Lance shifts, a surprised look on his face. He stares at Keith for a moment, trying to get a read on if he's joking or not. "You really mean that?"

 _Shit_ , Keith thinks, has he overstepped? But – Lance isn't protesting. "Yes, I mean it," Keith replies, stroking his hand down Lance's flank to his trim waist, kissing between his shoulder blades.

Lance smiles then, a free and easy smile, open and happy. He drops his head back down and his whole body goes pliant beneath Keith's hands. Keith lets his hands roam, exploring Lance's skin, lit by the firelight to a golden glow. He alternates strokes of his fingertips to pressing down on Lance's tired muscles, cramped from his earlier shivers. He works until Lance's body is lax beneath his touch, sweeping his palms down to Lance's ass, hesitating momentarily until he feels Lance push up slightly, a little more than a hint, a smile playing at his lips. He's closed his eyes at this point, content to let Keith pamper him at will, and Keith is astounded at the trust Lance gives him so easily. They've known each other for years now; moved beyond rivals to trusted teammates, to friends and found family. But this, this is new. This is a new, precious level of trust Lance is giving him tonight, and Keith hopes that his touch conveys his feelings back to Lance. He hopes Lance can feel the reverence in his touch, the worship of his body like it deserves. There is magic in the Midwinter air tonight, a breathless hush spread across the valley and mountains.

He kisses between Lance's shoulder blades and moves down, pressing kisses into Lance's spine, lips following the path of his fingers. Lance spreads his legs, inviting Keith wordlessly to take what he wants, and Keith slips between them, palms stroking across the swell of his ass. He looks back up at Lance; his eyes are still closed, but his lips are parted, breath a little quicker than before. There's a healthy blush across his cheekbones, and he licks his lips, hips shifting beneath Keith's hands. Lance wants this; wants whatever Keith wants to give him. Keith waits, hands resting heavy on Lance's hips, until Lance cracks his eyes open just a slit. He nods, loath maybe to break the silence, and Keith bends down, keeping eye contact, placing a kiss at the base of Lance's spine. He can feel the tiny trembles that shiver through Lance's body at his touch, but this time they are not due to the cold. Keith knows this because he can feel it too; holding his body in check despite the hard ache between his legs, his desire for Lance pushing at all his senses. 

He lets his mouth follow his hands, caressing Lance's smooth skin, parting his cheeks, stroking his fingers down the crack of his ass, back up again, teasing. Lance pushes into Keith's hands, hinting, but that's as far as he'll take it apparently, head dropping back to his forearms. Keith settles between Lance's thighs on his stomach, glad for the cushion of blankets beneath them, and sets to work. Lance comes alive beneath him at the first touch of his lips and tongue to Lance's hole; a feast for the senses. Lance is all soft, smooth skin, fire-warm with hard muscle beneath, alternatively tense and lax depending on what Keith is doing. He flattens his tongue and swipes up, swirling his tongue around. Lance lets out a soft moan and spreads his legs wider, encouraging silently. Lance is restless beneath him, can't stop moving, especially when Keith kisses him hard, sucking at his hole, pressing his tongue deep, then deeper, eating him out with the kind of attention he'd pay to finishing an ice cream cone. That makes Lance buck beneath him and swear finally, and Keith has to wrap his arms around Lance's thighs and hips to keep him down, spread him open so he can lavish attention on him like he deserves. 

"Oh fuck, Keith," Lance moans, breath coming fast. His hand comes down, fingers sliding into Keith's hair, and Keith gives him enough leeway to rock his hips back onto Keith's tongue. They find a steady rhythm; Keith can slip a finger inside, surprised at how quickly Lance loosens up, then adds a second, thrusting it slowly in and out while he uses his tongue to drive Lance crazy. Lance moves like the ocean; hips rolling in a seductive wave, working with Keith rather than against him. His thighs are trembling now; knees sliding on the blankets. Lance has one hand fisted tightly in the blanket to the side, back arched. He looks like he's in ecstasy, poised on the edge of revelation. "Keith, fuck, gonna –" Lance chants. "Keith, gonna – "

 _Come_ , Keith thinks. _Come for me. Want to feel you shake apart beneath me_.

Lance seizes suddenly, body taught as he orgasms. He cries out; it sounds almost painful, cathartic, a deep moan that makes Keith's cock throb where it's pressed against his stomach. Keith can't wait; he crawls up Lance's heaving body, and flips him over. Lance goes with the flow, unable to process much, body still in the throes of release, endorphins rushing. Keith swallows lance's question with a deep kiss, pushing into his mouth, and Lance wraps his arms around Keith's neck and shoulders and pulls him down, back between the cradle of his hips.

Keith is so wound up at this point he's not sure he's gonna last. Lance must feel it, because he pauses, pulling away from the kiss. "You wanna rub off on me, or fuck me?" he asks.

" _Damn_ , Lance," Keith moans, dropping his head to Lance's shoulder at the thought.

"Is that a yes?" Lance laughs. "I have lube in my jeans pocket if you wanna go for it. I'm loose enough."

Keith raises his head, and an eyebrow. "I have questions."

Lance tilts his head and winks. "Why do I have lube in my pocket or why am I loose? Answer: because I have hope, and because I'm a healthy male that likes to fuck myself with a dildo regularly because my crush is an oblivious idiot. Any more questions?"

"Nope," Keith manages to answer, trying not to think too much about Lance fucking himself with a dildo. He pauses, the silence pregnant, words at the tip of Keith's tongue. Heavy words. Words with meaning. "Lance, I've – "

"Shhh." Lance presses his fingertip to Keith's mouth and rolls his hips up against Keith's. "We have all the time in the world to talk, Keith. I wanna feel you inside me. See if you live up to the hype."

Keith can't help it; he laughs, the atmosphere breaking into something soft and silly, something that is theirs, always has been. "And here I thought you were the one with the massive cock and the knowledge to use it." Jokingly, Keith pushes to his knees and looks down, the blanket falling away. 

Keith's mouth might go a little dry. Fuck thirsty; this is something else. " _Wow_ ," Keith manages faintly. "Lance, that's, wow, one hell of a fantasy waiting to happen." Yeah. Lance is – well-endowed to say the least. His cock is pretty, dammit. Long and thick, reaching up for his naval, flared just beneath the head, just were Keith knows his prostate is gonna lie when that's in his ass. "I want you to fuck me now," Keith declares.

Lance snorts; it's horribly unromantic, but hey, they've known each other a long time. They don't need to impress each other. "Keith," Lance says, looking down the length of his own body to where Keith's cock nestles against his stomach, "I think you are underestimating the appeal of your own cock. How about we stop with the mutual appreciation and you stick that in me like, stat?" Lance leans back, arches his back in order to reach farther, and rifles around in his wet jeans until he pulls out a packet of lube. He flicks his wrist toward Keith, launching the packet without looking. Keith's reflexes are as good as ever; catching it out of the air.

Keith isn't going to waste time; he slicks up his fingers, warming the lube up, and then reaches down, sliding back home between Lance's legs, stroking over his hole. Lance sighs and relaxes, and Keith pushes in with two fingers, rubbing slowly, getting deeper. Lance arches his back, head falling back, and Keith nuzzles into his neck, pressing kisses, and then sucking at his Adam's apple, feeling Lance jerk beneath him. He allows himself to press a love bite against Lance's neck, high up just beneath his ear, knowing it'll be visible tomorrow. He swirls his fingers and presses deep again, and Lance rocks his hips up, letting out a soft moan. 

"Oh god, you love that, don't you," Keith breathes into Lance's neck, dropping kisses along his jaw line. "Could you come like this?"

"Fuck yes," Lance moans. "But I really want you in me."

Keith takes the hint. Pulls back and lines himself up, smearing the last of the lube over his cock and pressing forward. Lance hooks his leg over Keith's hip, mouth falling open as Keith presses in, taking it slowly. Lance moans, a long drawn out sound that hits Keith, running like electricity down his spine, settling in his belly and his balls. Yeah, he's not gonna last at all. He bottoms out, balls pressed to Lance's ass, and rolls his hips, grinding deep, and that makes Lance wild. He's like a livewire, hips pushing up, fingers kneading into Keith's shoulders, a keening moan torn from his throat. Keith can't help but react to that; snapping his hips forward, going hard and deep, rolling his hips and grinding down. Lance matches him thrust for thrust, skin slicked with sweat in the firelight just like Keith's. Their bellies slide together, Lance's cock caught in the friction, and they are shaking apart together. Keith leans down, flicks his tongue over Lance's nipple and sucks, and Lance is gone, coming with a cry for a second time, fingers fisting in Keith's hair, pulling him down for a filthy kiss.

Keith can't process all the things he's feeling; it's overwhelming. He pistons his hips, fucking into Lance's tight heat like he can't get enough, can't get deep enough. Lance locks his thighs around Keith's waist, whispers dirty things in his ears, until Keith's balls are drawn tight against his body, thighs trembling, kisses sloppy. His releases in a wave of pleasure, comes hard enough to bite his own lip. The pain amps the pleasure strangely enough, but nothing comes close to the feeling of filling Lance full of his hot come, feeling Lance clamp down around his cock, milking him till he's spent.

Keith has just enough common sense left to roll to the side after he comes, pulling Lance with him. They remain on their sides, tangled together until Keith's softening cock slips free. Lance makes a disappointed sort of humming noise, and Keith leans in for a kiss. One kiss become three; gentle and sated, and neither seems to want to stop. 

Outside, the snow continues to fall, the world silent, breathless. Waiting for the dawn.

* * *

Sometime around first light, Keith staggers up out of their warm nest to find food, and maybe something to drink. Lance blinks at him in the dark, a question in his raised eyebrow. 

Keith furtles around in the fridge, (still not working, fortunately mostly empty of everything except booze) and the pantry, and after taking care of nature, returns to the pile of blankets. He tosses a couple more logs on the fire to bring the temperature back up and slides back under the covers.

"How do you feel?" Keith asks. He strokes his hand through Lance's fringe, loving how soft his hair is, even in the cold.

"M'kay," Lance says. "No pins and needles anymore. I think you fucked the frostbite away."

Keith bites out a laugh, leans down for a sleepy kiss. "Just as long as you are feeling warmer," he says. "I found provisions."

Lance sits up, pulling a quilt over his shoulders so he's not exposed to the air. "Oh?"

Keith grins. He pulls his hand out from behind his back. "Behold: a single stubby. Molson Export."

Lance squints. "Exactly how old is that, but more importantly, is the cap intact?"

Keith turns the bottle around. "Um, didn't they stop making stubbies in the late 80s? I can't remember. It's old. The cap is still sealed."

"Oh good." Lance takes the bottle, leans over, and does something against the edge of the fireplace. Surprisingly, the cap pops off. "Ha," he says, taking a sniff, and then a tentative swig. "God damn it, Export is _terrible_." He passes over the beer. "What else have you found?"

Keith takes a drink; it's not too bad, he's tasted worse if he's going to be honest, although the beer is a little on the thin side. He prefers his beers thicker, with a little more body. He passes the stubby back to Lance and pulls out a bag, rattling it while holding it up in the air. "Behold: item number two – a party size bag of Doritos. Unfortunately they are zesty ranch flavour."

"Yanno," Lance says, taking a swig of the beer, "Oh my god, this is awful, Keith. Can we please find some coffee and you can make your desert-shack-coffee-in-a-can or something?"

"I don't make coffee in a can!" Keith exclaims.

"Yes, but I bet you did during the summer of the shack," Lance points out. "Gimme that bag of Doritos." He snatches for it, and Keith laughs, tugging it back. Lance has longer arms, and the stubby of beer, so in the interest of keeping that safe, Keith surrenders the chips. 

Eventually the warmth of the blankets and the fire pulls them both back into sleep, cuddled together as dawn approaches.

When Keith next awakens, it is to be greeted by a somewhat stunned audience, standing over them at the edge of the blanket fort. Keith stares at Pidge, Shiro and Hunk from over the top of the quilt. Then he elbows Lance awake.

" _Whathefu_ ," Lance mutters from somewhere around Keith's waist, where he's been sleeping, completely cocooned in blankets.

"Lance, could you come up here please," Keith says in a sing-song voice, trying to ignore the silent stares of his three other favourite people.

Lance noses his way up Keith's naked body, finally pushing his head out of the blankets. He blinks. "Oh, hey, guys. What's up?"

"What is up?" Pidge says, leaning down, hands on their hips. "What. Is. Up. I dunno, why don't you guys tell me? On second thoughts, maybe not."

"What Pidge really means," Hunk says, "is we were concerned when you guys didn't show up last night, and then this morning we found your rental at the bottom of the hill, and we might have panicked just a _tad_."

"You two absolutely had sex, didn't you?" Pidge adds, pointing a finger. "And you have Dorito dust in your hair, Kogane."

"I can explain!" Keith says in a rush. "Lance fell down a snowbank and then seduced me." 

"I did _what_ now?" Lance says, raising an eyebrow.

Shiro holds up his hands. "Okay, okay! Pidge, don't be confrontational; you were just as worried as we were. Lance, Keith; whatever you do to keep warm, that's your business, although I'm not sure why you thought drinking Molson was a good idea."

"How did you find us?" Lance says, brushing his hair back and leaning into Keith to preserve the warmth from the blankets.

Pidge rolls their eyes. "We all got chipped, remember?" They point to their neck. "A way to track each of us if we get captured or compromised? Once I got the signal back this morning I traced the pair of yours and voila, here we all are, staring at your guys' naked asses in a dilapidated old shack halfway up a mountain."

"I’m just glad you guys are okay," Hunk says. "We couldn't reach you on comm, which is like, so weird. That's never happened before."

"I guess the universe wanted us to be together," Keith says. It takes him a full twenty tics to realize that that was really, _really_ sappy and romantic.

"Keith," Lance breaths out, grabbing at Keith's hand. "That was beautiful. Please be my boyfriend."

Even Shiro looks momentarily floored, and maybe a little teary-eyed. He clears his throat. "Um, hate to break up the naked party," he says, "but Adam's got the turkey started, and the booze isn't going to drink itself. Unless you guys wanna hang here for a bit longer?"

Keith glances over at Lance and shrugs, as if to say, the decision is yours.

"I think…I think we're gonna come with," Lance says. "As much as I enjoyed the snuggling after the potential frostbite, I think I wanna do the Midwinter Solstice thing properly. Lots of good food and drinks, a proper party with my best friends. And my boyfriend," he adds, leaning forward to nuzzle into Keith's neck. 

Keith can feel his face heat as Lance grazes his teeth along the side of his neck, just under his ear, a promise of things to come later. Seemingly satisfied now that Keith is a pliant, melty puddle once more, Lance leans back and reaches for his clothes. "Okay, let's go celebrate in style!"

Despite all the potential and very real dangers last night, Keith is glad he got to experience this with Lance. Defying death is nothing new for the paladins, but forming new bonds is. And this new facet to his relationship with Lance excites Keith, it makes him feel warm inside. He feels like he's finally where he should be, and if it takes a massive snowstorm and a mountain range eons old to get there, so be it.

Or maybe it's just the spirit of Midwinter himself, with a cloak made of snow and fire nestled in the palm of his hand.


End file.
